You know what's up. That little picture of a grand futuristic city.
It's so distinct. It stands apart from the rest of the worlds. You've got your "City of God-worshipping aliens", "Plateau of You're-so-screwed", and then outta nowhere, you've got "R'lyeh. City of Paper-Pushers". If you were actually there in that picture, the first thing you'd see is a flying taxi whizzing by, and in that high-rise building over there, there's a byakhee working late past office hours.
Now to be honest, I don't know the actual context of this "R'lyeh" or why you'd spell it R'lyeh when everyone's just going to pronounce it Rilyeh anyways. To be fair, probably half of you guys have never read any of H.P. Lovecraft's stuff. Personally, I've read a few things but the guy just goes out of his way to make reading his stuff such a dang chore! So please take this with a grain of I-don't-know-what-I'm-talking-about salt.
But c'mon. This pic. Are we not on the same page here?
Let me paint this verbal picture for you. Imagine stepping through the tenth portal with me, and you're expecting that whatever's on the other side is going to eat you or turn you insane. You expect to be mentally tortured in a way you never even imagined you could *sense*. But here, the only thing you sense is the smell of sewer water and gasoline fumes, so, it'd be like unpleasant but kinda homely, y'know?
It's all normal. You'd see a Mi-Go dude doing a dumpster dive, and even this Wookie-thing walking around pushing a shopping cart. Not a threat at all. She might've been a shambling horror to you in Arkham, but now she's just working two jobs b/c no child support. The worst that could happen to us is some Hound of Tindalos that runs up to you and barks at you, but his Nightgaunt owner would pull its leash back and then he'd be like
Nightgaunt- "Oh I am so sorry. This usually doesn't happen. I just neutered him, but I mean, that is no excuse for my dog's behavior. I am just so sorry."
Me- "You're SORRY? You're not going to try to eat us?"
Nightgaunt- "Nah. Quite honestly, I'm too busy trying to figure out if your friend is the son of Indiana Jones and Freddie Mercury"
You- "No, I am not the brilliant gay version of Indiana Jones"
Me- "Chill man, these guys probably don't even have a distinction of like... the birds and the bees or whatever the Cthonian equivalent is"
You- "No prob, Bob"
Me- "So why do you even bother coming over to kill us?"
Nightgaunt- "Well why do you guys kill us whenever we come over? I swear, the second we TP in, you always pull out your primitive ballistic firearm or primitive laser beam cannon or whatever. "Shoot first, ask questions later." How are we supposed to be friendly if you're so scared of us?"
Me- "I'm pretty sure if you came over in peace, we would have no trouble at all, no matter how ugly you were. We're pretty accepting people. Okay, maybe not everyone before WWII was nice, but Arkham is a nice city for sure. "
Nightgaunt- "Yeah, well actually, that's the funny thing, you see. When we come over, we only come over to kill you guys. We're not really interested in making friends."
Me- "Well then why do you even bother with us then!?"
Nightgaunt- "Cause like, I just go over there to chill out after work, man, y'know? When I come over there, I'm this badass swooping through the skies, and you guys are all so amazed that a gargoyle like me can soar through the air and just rip you in half. I am revered by your people as the NIGHTGAUNT. Over here, I just work graveyard shift security, so I'd be happy enough if someone even called me Nightguard."
Me- "So nobody's going to kill us here."
Nightgaunt- "Nah. Chillax."
Me- "So no Elder God is going to destroy our planet because we accidentally woke his slumber."
Nightgaunt- "No, but, okay, so, they very well may rightly be Elder Gods to you, but to us they're more like... old-er presidents.
Me- "No no no. You guys have to be totally evil. Why else would you spread your evil influence by turning us into cultists, and maniacs, and evil warlocks then?"
Nightgaunt- "Uhh.. I dunno. Once you see one of us, you guys tend to go off the deep end. All that Elder God stuff is on YOU guys. It wouldn't be a problem if you guys stopped instantly becoming cultists the moment you see us."
Me- "And you expect me to believe that Cthulhu is actually a not-all-powerful-being"
Nightgaunt- "No, like I said, that's on you guys. He's like Kim-Jong-il, so if you actually believe Cthulhu doesn't need to pee or poop, then uhh, yeah, that's your fault for believing in it"
And then we live happily ever after in R'lyeh. We go back to Arkham every now and then on raids with nightguard, and kill those stupid huemons that try to shoot us just bc we're maniacs.
*Sits in chair, adjusting glasses before reading her clipboard*
Hi Michael, I'm Dr. Fern. Do you know where you are? You're in Arkham Asylum.
*Waits a moment for the fact to sink in*
You were found wandering the streets, making strange accusations. It says here you referring to Velma as a... *checks notes* ...Nightgaunt. Now, I'm here to help separate you through the process of discovering what is reality and what is in head.
*Caroyln's lips bulge out, tendrils growing out of them. She notices your stare and covers her mouth with one hand, removing it to reveal her face is normal again.*
And until we learn everything we need to know, I'm afraid you'll have to stay here a while.
*As she stands to leave the room, the tiny glow of the portal to Arkham is seen sealing up. Carolyn closes the door, quietly muttering about all of the paperwork she had to complete before 5.
nah... really gotta disagree with you on this one. it's as mind-blowing as what superstring theory did to quantum and general relativity. Huge. With lots more to come.
I'll admit it. I don't understand what this thread is about.